Rebel Yell

My little friend from the bike path this am!

Heard this song yesterday:

Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door
Last night a little angel Came pumpin cross my floor
She said "Come on baby I got a license for love
And if it expires pray help from above"

...and the refrain stuck with me, as a refrain will do:

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more

Especially on the day after I saw the man I was crushing hard on last fall for the first time in months. If I'd thought about seeing him before it happened, I would have predicted one of two outcomes:

1) I'd be over my crush; or

2) I'd get all flustered when I saw him.

Neither one of these things happened. Instead, we gave each other a giant, super satisfying hug, the way we always did, and then we talked. Heart to heart. Pretty immediately, the way we do. Or did.

And as I stared into his eyes, all I could think was "Wow, you are so beautiful. I love looking into your eyes. I love the way your body feels when you hug me. I love when your eyes well up with tears when I say something that gets to you. Damn, my ardor hasn't dimmed one little bit in the months since I've seen you."

And, I'm not gonna lie, when he walked away, I also had some Billy Idol-related thoughts:

More, more, more

Because that's what I've always felt when I see this man. I want more of him than he is ready or willing or able to give. That's why we stopped hanging out:

She don't like slavery, she won't sit and beg
But when I'm tired and lonely she sees me to bed
What set you free and brought you to be me babe
What set you free I need you here by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell more, more, more

I didn't want to put myself through another version of what I went through with the New Englander, where he wasn't ready to partner with me because he hadn't worked through his previous marriage or the vestiges of his childhood.

I still don't. So I let myself send him one text saying how beautiful and good-feeling I find him, and that I know the timing isn't right for us, but I appreciated seeing him as a reminder that I want to feel those feelings about the next man I date.

Well, that and more, more, more - someone willing to go that thousand miles the rebel yeller sings about:

I walked the ward with you, babe
A thousand miles with you
I dried your tears of pain, babe
A million times for you

I'd sell my soul for you babe
For money to burn with you
I'd give you all, and have none, babe
Just, just, justa, justa to have you here by me
Because

In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
In the midnight hour babe more, more, more
With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more
More, more, more

Oh yeah little baby
She want more
More, more, more, more, more

Ready for Love

Day two today of an eight day cleanse, which I'm embarking on for a multitude of reasons, among them:

1) My diet has not been awesome lately, and as a result, my body has felt stiff and lethargic. I can still remember how incredible I felt when I did the Whole 30,  and I want to feel that way again.

2) I am knocking on the door of some poses I've been working on for a long time, and I know (from both my own experience and from my teachers) that cleansing will benefit my practice.

3) Relatedly and perhaps most importantly, I know that although I sometimes feel like I am, as today's song title suggests, ready for love, I also know that I still need to make some progress on loving myself. For me, this is a much less daunting task when I am taking great care of myself. Put another way: it doesn't work for me to hate on my body while saying I love myself.

Hit it Bad Company:

Walkin' down this rocky road
Wondering where my life is leadin'
Rollin' on to the bitter end
Finding out along the way
What it takes to keep love living
You should know how it feels, my friend

Ooh, I want you to stay
Ooh, I want you today

I'm ready for love
Oh baby, I'm ready for love
Ready for love
Oh baby, I'm ready for love

Now I'm on my feet again
Better things are bound to happen
All my dues surely must be paid
Many miles and many tears
Times were hard but now they're changing
You should know that I'm not afraid

Ooh, I want you to stay
Ooh, I want you today

I'm ready for love
Oh baby, I'm ready for love
I'm ready for love
Oh baby, I'm ready for love
Oh, for your love

The tricky part is, with diet and with self-love, to keep choosing what makes me feel good, inside and out, rather than succumbing to the many foods and drinks that take me down a less happy path...

Cheerleader

It's cold here, so my number one selection factor in choosing a place to yoga this morning was heat. My friend said she was going to a class at The Studio downtown, so I decided to join her. I adore the teacher, even a little more each time I take a class with him, and today's class was awesome.

At one point, the teacher was doing something he characteristically does where he gets all excited while helping someone and says their name in a super cute way, and this very annoying song popped into my head:

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader
She is always right there when I need her

Annoying, yes, but also apropos. And I don't even need to correct the pronoun. Because while that particular yoga teacher is indeed a great cheerleader, it's the fact that he helps me access my own inner cheerleader that is truly powerful:

Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader
She is always right there when I need her...

i

Breathe for Change: Changing the world, one teacher at a time

What a day.

It began with a beautiful Breathe for Change workshop, which felt a little bittersweet because I made the decision yesterday to let go of my work with that organization for right now in order to make space for work with a salary commensurate with both my experience and my needs.

So that was a big deal.

And then what was supposed to be a practice session at my house with my favorite student turned into a conversation on the couch about being single parents, divorce, what I'm going to do with my life, our relationship, sex, exes, fantasies -- all the good stuff was in there.

It was about as satisfying as a conversation can be with someone who you kinda wish would just crawl in bed with you but in some ways you're just as willing to settle for a really satisfying hug at the door because you know damn well he's not in a place to love you right now.

You know?

And the day was capped off by a really awesome 7th grade concert tonight put on by my very own 7th grader and her classmates. The band sounded great, the orchestra sounded good, and the choir was awesome.

This song was one of the choral numbers tonight, and one of, though not the only, songs that made me cry today:

I done been through a whole lot
Trials and tribulations, but I know God
Satan wanna put me in a bow-tie
Praying that the holy water don't go dry, yeah yeah
As I look around me
So many motherfuckers wanna down me
But ain't no nigga never drown me
In front of a dirty double-mirror they found me

I didn't grow up in the ghetto, but I done been through a whole lot too. And I'm grateful for all of it, especially my good fortune to emerge, just like kendrick lamar, loving myself:

And I love myself
(The world is a ghetto with guns and picket signs)
I love myself
(But it can do what it want whenever it wants and I don't mind)
I love myself
(He said I gotta get up, life is more than suicide)
I love myself
(One day at the time, sun gone shine)

Keep Your Head Up

Heard this song today:

I spent my time, watching
The spaces that have grown between us.
And I cut my mind on second best,
Oh the scars that come with the greenness.
And I gave my eyes to the boredom,
Still the seabed wouldn't let me in.
And I try my best to embrace the darkness
In which I swim.

Now walking back, down this mountain,
The strength of a turnin' tide.
Oh the wind so soft, and my skin,
Yeah the sun so hot upon my side.
Oh lookin' out at this happiness
I searched for between the sheets,
Oh feelin' blind, I realize,
All I was searchin' for, was me.
Oh oh-oh, all I was searchin' for was me.

And those last couple of lines really resonated. It's true, you know, all that stuff they say about self love. It's so huge and it's so essential and it's so grounding. But it can be so difficult to come by, particularly for those of us who didn't get to enjoy having our essential nature lovingly mirrored by our parents.

But it's worth all the hard work, because once you get there, it's a lot easier to follow Ben Howard's advice:

Oh yeah, keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
No, no, no, no, keep your mind set, keep your hair long.
Oh my, my darlin', keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
Na, oh, no, no, keep your mind set in your ways.
Keep your heart strong.
Now I saw a friend of mine, the other day,
And he told me that my eyes were gleamin'.
Oh I said I'd been away, and he knew...
Oh he knew the depths I was meanin'.
And it felt so good to see his face,
All the comfort invested in my soul,
Oh to feel the warmth, of his smile,
When he said, 'I'm happy to have you home.'
Oh oh-oh, I'm happy to have you home.

I've been struggling a bit this week, as I do from time to time, with that "it sucks to be a homeowner by myself and have to deal with my own scary basement" feeling. And it does in some ways. But in others, it's good to have so much time in which I'm only in charge of me. I reckon this period is helping me solidify that self-love so that the next time I do enter a relationship, I won't give so much of myself away:

Oh yeah, keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
No, no, no, no, keep your mind set, keep your hair long.
Oh my, my darlin', keep your head up, keep your heart strong.
No, no, no, no, keep your mind set in your ways.
Well keep your heart strong.

And maybe, just maybe, that'll mean I can keep my heart strong -- no more heartbreak -- and my hair long -- no more heartbreak haircuts (one of which I had in the summer of 2013).

Here's hoping!

Take My Love

The look my ex called Archie girl reporter

In addition to the my-Dad-can't-show-his-love blues that came up at the wedding yesterday, I also had a little case of the singles.

It's not that easy being at a wedding by yourself with your kids, reminding yourself that your groom is coming. I believe that, I do, and I'm sure he's worth waiting for, as am I.

This one goes out to the future Mr. and Mrs. Archie (whom, after wanting glasses her whole life, finally gets to wear them for reading!):

You're no sunset, you're no lair
You're the beauty I admire
Burning love, hope, and desire
You're the woods at night on fire
Oh I miss you when it's cold out
Church bells ring I hear you sing out
You're no broken record turning
You're a wild melody
I know I might not be the one you take
Take my love
Take my love

When you told me you can't sleep
Count your sins instead of sheep
Count the ways that you feel weak
but that is not what I see
You're no wreckage, you're a fighter
Scrape the sky by your on power
Sound it loud above the water
You're a wild melody

I know I might not be the one you take
I've got a heart that ain't afraid to break
Take my love
Take my love
Take my love

Reach the windows as you hate
Walls you've built up in flames
Hear the roof cry as it caves
All it's power on your face
No one's had you're heart before
Felt that breathin on your floor
Felt the wolf at your front door
Felt that blood inside you boil

You're no sunset, you're no lair
You're the beauty I admire
You're the woods at night on fire
Burning love, hope, and desire.
Oh I miss you when it's cold out
Church bells ring I hear you sing out
You're no broken record turning
You're a wild melody

Take my love
Take my love
Take my love
Take my love

Yes please, you who are ready to both give and receive the whole package. Take my love!

High On You

High On You, Kid Style: Getting the Leaves Off the Roof

Driving home yesterday from my nephew's birthday celebration, my daughter and I found an awesome radio station that seemed to play one old cheesy number for mom followed by one more current cheesy number for daughter.

I got especially excited about hearing this one again:

There you stood, that'll teach her
To look so good and feel so right
Let me tell you about
The girl I met last night

It's understood, I had to reach her
I let the wheel of fortune spin
I touched your hand before
The crowd started crashin' in

Now I'm higher than a kite
I know I'm getting hooked on your love
Talkin' to myself, runnin' in the heat
Beggin' for your touch
In the middle of the street

And I, I can't stop thinkin' about you, girl
I must be livin' in a fantasy world
I'm so high on you

Smart and coy, a little crazy
The kind of face that starts a fight
Let me tell you about
The girl I had last night

Piercin' eyes, like a raven
You seemed to share my secret sin
We were high before
The night started kickin' in

Now I'm screamin' in the night
I know I'm getting hooked on your love
Talkin' to myself, runnin' in the heat
Beggin' for your touch
In the middle of the street

And I just kinda drove with the feeling of how much I miss being loved by a man in the physical plane. I get that there's a reason for this time to myself. I do. And I know that it will come to an end at the right time for me, in whatever way is best for me. I'm not in control of this process. I could try to take control, as I have in the past, by trying to arbitrarily stop feeling what I'm feeling or finding someone else to scratch the itch for me. But I don't see either of those roads as leading to liberation. I've been down them both before, and I can tell you they did not lead anywhere good.

So I'm going to hang in with the discomfort and stay with the process this time as best I can. Sorry Survivor, but this girl lived in a fantasy world for much of her life. It saved her, but it was ultimately an empty, lonely place to be, and now she's breaking out:

And I, I can't stop thinkin' about you, girl
I must be livin' in a fantasy world
I've searched the whole world over
To find a heart so true
Such complete intoxication
I'm high on you
I'm high on you
I'm high on you

Riding home from my yoga practice this morning, I started singing this song aloud, and I realized that maybe it's my heart I've searched the whole world over to find.

At the end of my group each week, the group leader reads the following message from the Hopi Elders, who would suggest that is indeed the case:

"There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all, ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration. We are the ones we've been waiting for..."

Below My Feet

It's Sunday today, and I'm up early to head to a group yoga practice that starts at 7am.

Actually, I'm up earlier than I need to be for that, and when I awoke this morning, my feet were calling out for attention. At about 5:45am, I decided to listen to my what my body was asking for, and grabbed my foot cream off my dresser and gave them a good rub down.

As I rubbed, this song entered my still-sleepy consciousness:

You were cold as the blood through your bones
And the light which led us from our chosen homes
Well I was lost

And now I sleep
Sleep the hours and that I can't weep
When all I knew was steeped in blackened holes
I was lost

Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn
Keep my eyes to serve and my hands to learn

I feel like this is a good song for a Sunday. The closest I come to organized religion is a led group yoga practice, but the lyrics of this song really resemble a prayer:

And I was still
I was under your spell
When I was told by Jesus all was well
So all must be well

Just give me time
You know your desires and mine
Wrap my flesh in ivy and in twine
For I must be well

I find them comforting, too. I've been having this thing with my feet on and off since I got back from Maine. I'm not sure exactly what the message is, but I have a pretty good idea.

Here's some background:

Before I went to Maine, I was super excited to give the New Englander a foot rub. He loves it when I do that, and I love doing things that make him feel good. But -- and I think I wrote about this before -- I found out right before we got there that he'd slept with someone else since the last time we saw each other. We hadn't been exclusively dating, but still. Here I was putting my life on hold for him -- by my own choice, mind you -- but I felt betrayed when I heard this news.

So we got there, and on night number two, in the tent in Acadia, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I had these lurid fantasies unlike anything I've ever had before. In some of them, instead of giving him a foot rub, I was twisting his toes as if they were silly putty. Making them long and twisty and then pulling them off. It was a really strange experience. One I've never had before or since.

I did not, of course, act on these fantasies. Instead, after we got up, I told him I wanted to talk and as we sat by the ocean, I told him how I felt.

Flash forward a couple of days: We're back in Portland. We're connecting again, both as a twosome and as a foursome. I decide to give him a foot rub, but I only get through one foot before I need to help the kids with something. By the time I got back to him to do the second foot, said foot was screaming for my loving touch.

That's exactly how both of my feet were feeling when I woke up this morning. Not only did I not get a foot rub in Portland, but it's been a very, very long time since anyone has touched me in that "come here, let me love you up" kind of way that is more about nurture than sex.

I think one of the reasons why I'm having such a hard time right now is that I'm finally feeling a lot of the feelings I denied in service of convincing myself that my relationship with the New Englander was working or could work. And that includes being touched -- and I don't mean sexually -- without having to ask for it.

This afternoon I got to spend a little bit of time alone in the woods -- this time sans bike -- and when I found myself going down the familiar road of thinking about what was or what could be, I stopped myself, and instead tried to release him.

Speaking of prayer, I realized in that moment that I don't feel ready to release the New Englander. I wish I did, I'm sure most people in my life wish I did, but I don't. It's not like saying over and over again that I'm doing something means it happens.

So instead, I asked for the willingness to release him, and that felt a lot more productive:

Keep the earth below my feet
For all my sweat, my blood runs weak
Let me learn from where I have been
So keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Well keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn

Yes, please. Help me learn from where I have been...

Postscript: Speaking of learning, I saw a friend and fellow yoga teacher the morning after I wrote this. She was teaching a class that involved footrubs, so I told her about my experience of waking up with my feet crying out for some love. She said "Yep, this is the time of year for Vata. Lots of air. Lots of trouble staying grounded on the Earth."

Fascinating!

The Brokenhearted

Just me chillin' at CamRock post-ride

After visiting my friend and her new baby on Saturday, I went mountain biking at CamRock. I had the trails all to myself -- except for the snakes, chipmunks, grasshoppers, toads, bunnies and woodchucks -- I guess all my fellow shredders were busy cheering on the Badgers. I LOVED having the woods to myself, and I had an excellent time.

When my thoughts traveled to my old mountain biking pal, I tried to remind myself to have my own experience, you know, be here now. And I mostly managed to do that.

I try to make sure the Universe knows, though, in no uncertain terms, that I am open to an encounter with a new mountain biking hottie whenever it's ready to put that in motion. Just in case this was my weekend, I packed not one but two Hopalicious in my cooler for after-ride refreshment.

Alas, it will not surprise you to learn that the fact that I enjoyed having the trails to myself also meant that there was no hot man to drink my other beer.

Which is ok. It really is. I know that this time is about being the one I love. I keep getting those reminders. And I'm mostly doing a pretty damn good job of doing just that.

So this morning when the Boss started playing after my meditation, this time this tune:

Well darling, oh won't you come a little closer
I promise pretty darling, I didn't know what I was saying
And now I'm praying that you won't say it's over
Come here pretty baby and rest your head upon my shoulder
Just one kiss and we started
Now don't leave me to the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted
And tell me that you need me

Well now baby, the lonely nights keep growing longer
And my love for you just keeps growing stronger
Like a wheel of chance so endlessly turning
My fate lay in your hands, my heart forever burning
In a sweet fire your kiss started
Now don't leave me to the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted
And tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me, girl

The cruel mistakes I've made, the hard price that I've paid
For the good times and for laughter
Girl, I should've known for the indifference that I've shown
I'd pay forever after

And darling, now all I'm trying to say is passion
And love, they have a way of slipping into blackness
Uncared for of slipping away
The deck is cut, the cards turned, the hand is played
And all we ever hope for burns to ashes and drifts away
Now don't let our love slip into this darkness
Don't leave me to the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted, the brokenhearted
And tell me that you love me
Tell me that you need me
Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me
Tell me that you need me
Tell me that you want me
Tell me that you love me
Yeah tell me that you love me
Tell me that you love me
Tell me that you want me
And come on now daring
Say it right now baby
Say it right now darling
Tell me that you love me

I felt, for the moment at least, free from the grip of the loneliness that I can hear and feel in his voice. I can and I am telling myself that I love me, and I'm getting the message that I am loved from the Universe in myriad ways.

Not, mind you, in the super delicious way that is being wrapped up in the strong arms of someone like The Boss or The New Englander or the yummy, available, considerate, open, generous, warm, smart, fun, lovely man I'm gonna date next.

But I've been working out. I practice yoga six times a week. My arms are pretty buff. They'll do for the time being, during which I seem to still have work that I need to do on my own...

Tie A Yellow Ribbon

My son and I are reading Running With Scissors together, a memoir about growing up with an alcoholic father and crazy mother. It's a book I've been intending to read for years, but like so many others, it has sat on the shelf. Until now. Because while I don't get a lot of books read these days, I do read aloud to both of my kids, and now that my son is 14, I feel like he can handle this one. I wouldn't want him to read it on his own, but I think reading it with me, where we can talk about what we read, is going to be a learning experience for both of us. Not to mention that it's hilarious.

Although Augusten Burroughs is only six years older than me, there are a number of cultural references I don't understand. It bugs my son, but I insist on googling them so I can see what he is talking about -- like when he mentioned loving Tony Orlando and Dawn -- I'd never heard of them.

Still, there's something familiar about this song:

I'm comin' home, I've done my time
Now I've got to know what is and isn't mine
If you received my letter telling you I'd soon be free
Then you'll know just what to do
If you still want me, if you still want me

Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
It's been three long years, do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the ole oak tree
I'll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree

Bus driver, please look for me
'Cause I couldn't bear to see what I might see
I'm really still in prison and my love, she holds the key
A simple yellow ribbon's what I need to set me free
And I wrote and told her please

Whoa, tie a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree
It's been three long years, do you still want me?
If I don't see a ribbon round the ole oak tree
I'll stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on me
If I don't see a yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree

Now the whole damned bus is cheerin'
And I can't believe I see

A hundred yellow ribbons round the ole oak tree
I'm comin' home

Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree
Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree
Tie a ribbon round the ole oak tree

This is a pretty happy tune, and the video is super fun to check out what with the outfits and the hairstyles, but I won't be tying any ribbons around any trees any time soon. Nor am I likely to see any.

What I will be doing, however, is focusing more on myself. My dreams. Not my dreams about love and marriage -- anyone who regularly reads this blog has got to be as tired of me focusing on those as I am.

Nope, for the next few months I'm going to focus on my other dreams -- being a writer -- finding a way to help people in my work -- and trust that by more fully becoming myself, I'll be that much more ready to partner with someone else when the time comes...

Stronger

Today at the gym I went to a functional TRX class, where the trainer assigns all kinds of functional exercises that students do in circuits -- some exercises use the TRX -- some don't.

As I was doing push ups inside of two rungs of a ladder lying on the floor and then moving sideways to the next two, the trainer came over and said "Those are some solid push-ups, Sarah, nice work!" I positively beamed. I'd noticed myself that since I've been practicing Ashtanga as it was meant to be practiced -- 6 days per week -- for nearly two months now -- I can actually execute a real, live push-up -- no knees down -- no going down halfway -- no bowing of the back -- and then another, and then another.

I've never liked push-ups, so I never would've gotten to this point relying on doing push-ups to get me there, but I love my yoga practice. And it's where we find joy that strength follows with the least amount of resistance.

Just ask Kanye:

So we gon' do everything that Kan like
Heard they'd do anything for a Klondike
Well, I'd do anything for a blonde-dike
And she'll do anything for the limelight
And we'll do anything when the time's right
Ugh, baby, you're makin' it (harder, better, faster, stronger)

Na-na-na that that don't kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
'Cause I can't wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
'Cause I can't get much wronger
Man I've been waitin' all night now
That's how long I've been on you

I need you right now
I need you right now

Yes, thanks to my yoga practice, I'm getting stronger every day. And the stronger I get, the less I need anyone else to complete my experience with every day life. That doesn't mean I won't welcome a partner when the time comes, but it does mean that focusing on getting stronger myself -- physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually -- is all I need right now...

Running Against the Wind

One of my dinner guests -- love that baby time!

I had tentative plans to run with a friend this morning, but when I didn't hear back from her, I decided to sleep in. As a result, my whole day happened later than normal: Breakfast at 10am, long run at 1pm, lunch at 4:30, dinner at 8pm. Sometimes it feels good to do that.

I must've needed the sleep, because I finally started tackling some of the things I've been meaning to do around the house, which felt good.

I had to sort of force myself both to do my long run and to do my yoga practice, but both ended up feeling really good. Slacker kept quitting on my phone while I was running, which was super annoying, but luckily my internal jukebox was cranking them out.

I ran from my house to picnic point and back, which I haven't done in a while, but at 7.5 miles, it's just a little bit farther than the run I have been doing from the Capitol to Picnic Point and back. When I turned off the trail that goes to the Point, I started running against the wind, and Bob Seger wasted no time getting started with playing this song in my head:

It seems like yesterday
But it was long ago
Janey was lovely, she was the queen of my nights
There in the darkness with the radio playlng low
And the secrets that we shared
The mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Till there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove

And I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I remember how she held me oh so tight
Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then

Against the wind
We were runnin' against the wind
We were young and strong, we were runnin'
Against the wind

I found myself wondering if running against the wind is meant to indicate not going with the flow/being out of sync, or if it just means sometimes you're going to find yourself in a position against the wind, and when you do, it's best to keep running:

And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin'
Searchin' for shelter again and again
Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter against the wind

Well those drifters days are past me now
I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out

Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still running
Against the wind
Well I'm older now and still running
Against the wind

I don't know for sure how Bob meant it, but I know that I too am older now, and I'm still running. And yeah, sometimes that means running against the wind, literally and figuratively...

Hit Me Baby One More Time

Sweet baby Hazel

This song is another in the list of 66 songs that changed everything that I listened to the other day, and so it kinda makes sense that it was on repeat today when I was hanging out with my friend's baby:

Oh, baby, baby
Oh, baby, baby

Oh, baby, baby, how was I supposed to know
That something wasn't right here
Oh, baby, baby, I shouldn't have let you go
And now you're out of sight, yeah

Of course, this song is about the other kind of baby, but methinks they're related:

Show me how you want it to be
Tell me, baby, 'cause I need to know now
Oh, because

My loneliness is killin' me
(And I)
I must confess I still believe
(Still believe)
When I'm not with you I lose my mind
Give me a sign
Hit me, baby, one more time

Because it was the same loneliness I felt when I lost my man that strengthened my desire to have another baby. I wanted that closeness. That feeling of belonging. Of Oneness.

I'm happy to report that I've come to find out I can have that feeling without a man or a baby, because both the man and the baby are just means of accessing something that is actually within me: my being, my light.

I'm reading a book right now called Perfect Love: Imperfect Relationships, and the author does a brilliant job of laying out all the ways we try to get the love we are looking from other people -- what he calls horizontally -- when what we really need is to get it vertically -- by connecting with our own true nature. For me it's a real relief, and it couldn't have come at a better time.

My now two-week old commitment to the Ashtanga path of 6-day per week practice is already having a profound impact on my life. I've got a ways to go, but I'm doing so much better at focusing on myself and my own healing. And it feels like it's working. And I'm lucky, because I do get to hang out with a super cute baby every once in a while and have her nap on my chest as she did today, which is one of my very favorite feelings in the world.

But I no longer feel like I need to have another one of my own. I feel like I don't know what direction my life is going to go in -- I don't know what's next for me on my career path, I don't know who my new man will be, and I don't know if I'll ever have more kids -- either my own bio, adopted, or step. I don't know.

But I know the what the path I'm on looks like. I know that it involves going to an Alanon meeting on Father's Day when my father ignores what I've written to him in his Father's Day card. I know it involves a commitment to being as present and as loving as I can be for my kids. I know it means practicing Ashtanga six days per week, including tomorrow, even though I'm pretty sore after all the yoga I did this weekend. I know it involves daily meditation, even if it's only for five minutes some days. And I know it means staying really fit, biking most places I go, and being able to head out the door for a run that lasts an hour or more without being sore afterward. I know it means caring for my beautiful home for which I am profoundly grateful. And I know it means using both music and writing to make sense of my life.

So even if there are a lot of pretty big unknowns, there's a lot I do know, and it's everything I need to know right now...

I'm Your Man

This morning I got up earlier than I normally do on a morning when I don't have the kids; my earlier rising motivated by my workshop this weekend. You see, ever since my Ashtanga group moved its open practice to Mound Street, we've had more time constraints. We have to be done by 8:45am, and previous to the workshop, I'd been arriving at 8:00 or a couple of minutes after and trying to squeeze in my practice. In the process of trying to beat the clock, I've been cheating my breath and many of the postures. So I'm working on turning a new leaf.

This morning wasn't a perfect start -- I could've arrived earlier than I did, but it was an improvement. And accompanying me on my bikeride this morning was this song in my head -- and specifically these words on repeat:

But where we're going baby
Ain't no such word as no

Not exactly sure what to make of it, but this is my take:

This commitment I'm making to myself, there's no going back. There's no way to stuff it back in or to go back to being ok with what was once ok with me.

It might also be about the realization I had this weekend that I am choosing people for intimate relationships who need to go away because I need to go away. That's a big one. And it really makes me think twice about jumping back into the dating game anytime soon. I'm not sure I'll be ready to meet someone who'll really stick around for me - - emotionally and physically -- until I really stick around for me - - emotionally and physically. I'm definitely on the path. I'm taking steps. I've sat for 5 minutes the last two days. But it's going to take time.

So no George, I'm afraid I do not know:

Baby, I'm your man don't you know that?
Baby, I'm your man
You bet
If you're gonna do it, do it right - right?
Do it with me

I don't know who my man is yet. But I know he's out there:

So good
You're divine
Wanna take you, wanna make you
But they tell me it's a crime
Everybody knows where the good people go
But where we're going baby
Ain't no such word as no...

I Knew You Were Waiting

Besides being beautiful, this pool has the best music!

We flew out today, but not until 4pm, so we got to enjoy a swim -- one in the pool and one in the ocean -- before we left.

The pool my kids chose for the last swim was the bistro pool -- off the beaten path, and therefore not as busy. Plus, the radio is always blaring one cheesy favorite after another, and this morning was no exception:

Like a warrior that fights
And wins the battle
I know the taste of victory

Though I went through some nights
Consumed by the shadows
I was crippled emotionally

Somehow I made it through the heartache
Yes I did, I escaped
I found my way out of the darkness
I kept my faith, kept my faith

When the river was deep
I didn't falter
When the mountain was high
I still believed
When the valley was low
It didn't stop me, no, no
I knew you were waiting
Knew you were waiting for me

With an endless desire
I, I kept on searching
Sure in time our eyes would meet

Like the bridge is on fire
The hurt is over
One touch and you set me free

No, I don't regret a single moment
No I don't, looking back
When I think of all those disappointments
I just laugh, I just laugh

I may not be 100% entirely there, but I'm pretty darn close to feeling this way about my childhood, which makes spending time with my parents a billion times easier. This vacation felt easy about 98% of the time, which is pretty incredible.

It's been a long road getting here:

When the river was deep
I didn't falter
When the mountain was high
I still believed
When the valley was low
It didn't stop me

But while I know I owe a part of the relative ease with which I'm living these days to the healing made possible by really, truly loving and being loved, unlike Aretha and George, I'm not giving any love outside of myself all the credit:

I knew you were waiting
Knew you were waiting for me

So we were drawn together through destiny
I know this love we share was meant to be

I do know it was meant to be, this love I share with my New Englander. I know that it has made me like myself more, love myself more, be a better mother, a more avid reader, less defensive, more adventurous... the list goes on and on. But not faltering? Still believing? Not letting anything stop me on this long and winding healing journey?

All me, baby:

I didn't falter
I still believed
It didn't stop me

I'm Every Woman

The teacher I've been primarily working with since I started practicing Ashtanga started a new job, so he isn't often at the studio anymore. One of my favorite classes is led primary, which is where the teacher counts in Sanskrit and moves through the series. It used to be on Saturday mornings, but this morning the website said "Group Practice" instead of "Led Primary." I haven't been in a couple of weeks, so I decided to go anyway.

Lucky for me, there were two other women who decided to show as well, despite the change in class format. As it worked out, we just started our practice together (complete with chant beautifully led by one of the other Ashtangis) and then moved at our own pace.

The other two women who were there are really good at Ashtanga. I know, I know, it's not supposed to be about that, but they are, and it was hard for me not to feel kinda lame when I couldn't do many of the poses that they did.

Just when I was starting to get a little down on myself, Whitney self-selected on the internal jukebox and reminded me I'm not only as good as the other women, I am them:

'Cause I'm every woman (Every woman)
It's all in me
It's all in me
Yeah

I'm every woman
It's all in me

Of course, she was singing about what she could bring to a man, but I had a Whitney-related realization on that front today too. I was singing another of the songs I heard yesterday, The Greatest Love of All, and recognizing anew that part of what's so great about finding self-love is having it to give to someone else...

Hero

I could feel all day that there was something uncomfortable brewing under the surface today, but it took hearing this cheesy song to finally get the tears flowing:

There's a hero
If you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid
Of what you are
There's an answer
If you reach into your soul
And the sorrow that you know
Will melt away

I don't know, Mariah. I've been reaching into my soul for months, and the sorrow may be lessening, but I'm afraid I can't say it has melted away:

And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you

I felt this today. Strength. Through all the discomfort, there was an undercurrent of strength. Of I-can-do-this-ness. On my bike this morning in the bitter wind, in my frustrating work meeting, in my TRX class, in yoga this evening. I could feel myself in there, fighting, for me:

It's a long road
When you face the world alone
No one reaches out a hand
For you to hold
You can find love
If you search within yourself
And the emptiness you felt
Will disappear

But I guess I gotta keep searching within myself, because I still feel emptiness. I still feel the "how could he have left me?" and "why did I invest so much in something so precarious?" But then how was I to know that love could be precarious? I'm here to say that it can be when you're with someone who only partly surrenders to it, and take it from me, if there's a part of you that knows that's what's happening in your relationship, do yourself a favor and get out now:

Lord knows
Dreams are hard to follow
But don't let anyone
Tear them away
Hold on
There will be tomorrow
In time
You'll find the way

I know that in time I'll find the way, but in the meantime, I'm heading into the holidays more alone than I've been, with the exception of my kids, in my adult life...

Breathe Me

This month, I've begun practicing Ashtanga yoga the way it is intended to be practiced: six days per week. As the month got started, I wasn't sure I was capable of maintaining that kind of discipline, either in general or about this practice. In the past, my efforts to implement this kind of discipline have quickly burned out. When this has happened, I've always found explanations (or excuses) for why this may be the case, e.g. I'm too busy, I'm not a morning person, going to classes is too expensive, I have kids, I don't have space to practice, I'd rather be in bed with my man, etc.

What I've never considered before is what I'm giving up by giving in to any one of those excuses. It's difficult, I think, to understand what you're giving up if you've never really experienced it, but this month, I'm beginning to learn what is gained through this kind of discipline: dedication to the self.

In terms of my yoga practice, this can be broken down into the requisite parts of what I gain from the practice, which includes but is not limited to greater strength, focus, clarity, flexibility, and release. These are important benefits to be sure, but they aren't nearly as powerful as the simple act of showing up for oneself even when you don't want to, of being in a space with yourself even when it's uncomfortable, of working through the self-talk that comes out when you are challenged, of being with the emotions that arise in a way that facilitates staying on the mat above all else, and, no matter what the experience is like today, coming back tomorrow unless it happens to be the one day per week of rest.

It's a phenomenal, fundamental change. The other day during a particularly hard practice, I realized I'd never loved myself like this -- and I'm talking about the kind of love that includes a commitment to hang in there even when things are really, really tough and I might not want to be there. In those moments, in the past, I've so often walked away from myself, seeking refuge in sleep, sex, food, drink, tv, and obsessive thoughts.

This vicious cycle is one with which we humans are oh so familiar, and we so often fail to recognize, as these lyrics from the lovely song to mark this day articulate, that we have only ourselves to blame for it:

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame

Rather than looking at ourselves, because that's so painful and hard, we tend to look outside for someone else to fix us, save us, make us feel better:

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

Which only leads to a greater separation from the self:

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe

The radical difference that I'm exploring this month is what happens when we show up for ourselves, be our own best friend, hold ourselves, unfold ourselves, warm ourselves, and breathe ourselves, rather than asking someone else to do it for us, or doing it for someone else:

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

What happens when we do this, I am finding, is that we no longer feel small and needy. We instead feel powerful and strong and capable of taking on whatever comes into our path...